


How Long Does a Healthy Robot Live?

by JustJasper



Series: How Long Does a Healthy Robot Live? [1]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-21
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-04-27 05:25:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5035552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustJasper/pseuds/JustJasper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mini fic for the robot/android!Morgan/Reid 'verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Matters of Creation

“Why did you create me?”

Reid lifted his gaze from Morgan’s arm, where several patches of wiring and metal were exposed and the artificial skin was damaged.

“I’ve told you,” Reid said evenly, looking back at his work, “the joint application of artificial intelligence and robotics is a field of interest for me.”

Morgan turned his head away and wiggled his fingers in precisely the way Reid had told him not to as he did his repairs. He almost smiled at the very human act of subtle defiance, and looked up again.

“If you’re not happy with my answer…” he prompted; Morgan let out a long breath through his nose, and then sighed. Reid knew he was testing the new function that mimicked the human respiratory system, testing it’s abilities now he’d got used to the automated breathing function.

“You created me to function as a human being,” Morgan started, “you even made pioneering advances in robotics. But you’ve never shared your progress publicly. Did you design me for your own companionship?”

“Yes,” Reid nodded. “I guess a large part of my motivation was my isolation.”

“Did you design me to want that? To accept that role?”

“If I did, do you think you’d be questioning it now?” Reid posed. Morgan thought.

“What if I wanted to leave?”

Reid put down the tool he’d been holding. “You know you can’t.”

“Because I’m a thing,” Morgan said sullenly. “An object, I belong to you.”

“Derek,” Reid said, taking his hand and lifting it carefully, holding it in both of his as he looked intently at him. “You are a person, not a thing. The law might state I own you, but you know that’s not true. The idea that you’re an object makes you angry, and just because the processes that allow you to be angry are synthetic they’re no less valid than my organic ones. I believe that, even if the world doesn’t yet.”

“If you believe that, why did you make me look human?” he asked. “If what matters are my thoughts and emotions, why did you give me skin, hair, a body that’s more than just functional, one that looks good too, a specific accent and dialect?”

“Because in the beginning I was imitating human aesthetics,” Reid said. “Some of them are necessary for non-verbal communication, like having an expressive face and a body capable of subtle movement. I can take those things away if that’s what you want. I can change your voice, reconstruct your laryngeal structure to your desired specifications, take away your skin, your nervous system, right down to you being a brain on a basically functioning body.”

“No,” Morgan snapped, snatching his hand away and drawing it to his chest protectively. Reid smiled, and sat back in his seat.

“If this is a matter of identity, I can give you something distinctly un-human, if you want,” he suggested, half-playful. “Some exposed robotics, protected by a clear membrane? Antennae? An ‘A’ for 'android’ on your head?”

“Shut up,” Morgan muttered, but he was smiling slightly as he extended his arm again for Reid to continue fixing.


	2. Matters of Rest

“It’s time to sleep,” Morgan said from the doorway of Reid’s lab.

“I’ll have to check your battery, you shouldn’t need to charge this soon,” he replied, not looking up from the delicate work he was doing in circuitry.

“For you, Spencer,” Morgan pressed. “My battery is fine, but you need to ‘recharge’ too.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not getting enough sleep.”

“I have to get this finished.”

“You  _have_ to rest properly,” Morgan protested.

"Humans can live productive lives on as little as four hours sleep in each twenty-four hour period, provided it’s part of a routine.”

“You’re showing signs of sleep deprivation.”

“Would you  _please_  leave me alone!” Reid snapped, something made an electrical sound on the thing he was working on and a small plume of smoke wafted from it. “Shit!” He set his tools down hard, bracing his hands on his workbench as he took a long breath in through his nose.

"It’s time to sleep,” Morgan repeated calmly.

Reid exhaled and rolled his shoulders, tapped a few key on his nearest screen and pushed himself away from the bench.

“Yeah,” he conceded when he drew level with Morgan at the doorframe. “I’m sorry.” He reached out and placed a hand gently on Morgan’s neck, and when the other didn’t stiffen or draw away he gripped more firmly and leant in the rest against him.

“Don’t worry,” Morgan murmured, a smile tugging at his mouth, “you’re only human.”


	3. Matters of Life

“I programmed you with wide-ranging base knowledge,” Reid said, under his breath as Morgan fussed at the friendly german shepard dog they’d encountered at the park. “You know what a dog is.”

“I know,” Morgan shrugged, once the owner had led the dog away and he’d straightened. “But it’s different to actually see it.”

Reid smiled, but before long Morgan was off again at a brisk walk, towards something else that had caught his eye.

Swings.

The playground had a few teenagers hanging around, and at the sight of what appeared to them to be a fully grown man making a beeline for them they sat up and stared. Morgan ignored them and headed for the vacant swings, and planted himself on one of them. By the time Reid had caught up, Morgan was pushing and pulling with his feet, trying to get the motion right.

“I like this,” he said, looking as if he was getting the hang of it. He looked across at Reid, who  had taken the swing next to him but was only rocking back and forth on his feet. “We should get some of these!” he said enthusiastically. “And a dog!”

Reid chuckled, captivated by the excitement on Morgan’s face at all the mundane things Reid took for granted that he was experiencing for the first time.


	4. Matters of Death

It had been a strange conversation to have with the paramedic to say the least. Morgan, leg crushed from the impact of the car, sitting quite contently on the curb explaining that he didn’t need to go to the hospital unless they had a mechanic on hand. The police were not quite as concerned once they’d established that Morgan was mechanical, and despite him looking nothing like the only vaguely humanoid service robots that were gaining in popularity, it was just another case of criminal damage and not vehicular assault.

“Why are you so cheerful?” Reid asked shortly, as he worked on a repair. Morgan, sans leg, was sitting on a nearby workbench humming as he played a game on a small screen he’d pulled up in front of him.

“What’s wrong?” Morgan asked, smile faltering.

“Your leg’s been crushed, Derek.”

“My nervous network shut off as soon as I got hit, just like you planned,”  he shrugged. “I didn’t feel anything. In fact, I still can’t. Do you think you could make it so the nerve network only shuts down locally if I get damaged again?”

“Derek, this is serious!”

“What? It’s okay, Spencer, I’m fine.”

“If the car had hit your head instead of your neck, this kind of force would have crushed your skull and brain potentially beyond repair.”

“How’s a car gonna hit my head unless I’m lying in the street?” he scoffed.

“Derek!” Reid snapped, glaring at him. “You need to be more careful! You can break. You can die-” and with that his voice cracked, and he lowered his eyes to work on his repair. 

He could hear Morgan sliding off the table, supporting himself on the surfaces as he hopped over.

“Hey,” he said gently, leaning his arms on the top of Reid’s back and his chin on the man’s head, “it’s gonna be okay. I don’t plan on dying, and we’re going to press charges on that drunk driver on criminal damages if we can’t get him on assault since apparently I’m the same as a toaster by law.”

“I’m sorry,” Reid said softly. “You deserve better.”

Morgan hummed his agreement, kissing the top of Reid’s head.


End file.
